


A Sky Without Stars: Book One

by handlewithkara



Series: A Sky Without Stars [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Dark, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handlewithkara/pseuds/handlewithkara
Summary: AU from Distant Sun where the portal can't be used without a second portal. Rhea will do anything to get her son back.





	1. Chapter 1

> _\- Whatever you want. I'll go back to Daxam, I'll be your prince. All of it. Just stop hurting her._
> 
> _\- I_ _have your word? No tricks? No resistance?_
> 
> _\- You have my word._

Mon-El and Rhea in Distant Sun

***

 

“Hey.”

Kara nearly burst into tears when she heart her sister's voice. “Alex, Alex, it's Mon-El. They took him.”

“What happened? Whoa, slow down, slow down. “

“His mother, she had Kryptonite. I'm at the fortress. She attacked me and then ...”

“Are you okay?”

“It's not important, but they took him. I'm going back to the DEO. Please, we have to find him. I need him.”

“Okay, I'm on my way.”

With every movement the Kryptonite wound in her leg burned, but she couldn't allow herself to fall down.Don't pass out. Don't fall over and throw up. You have to get home. You have to.

***

“Take your clothes off.”

“I'd rather not.”

Rhea raised one eyebrow. “I seem to remember you promising me no resistance.” She looked with disdain at the lapels of his jacket. “I'm not gonna stand for my son wearing these earthling fashions, of paupers nonetheless. In fact, I think I shall oversee their incineration personally.”

Mon-El sighed and pulled off his jacket. Bending down he unlaced his shoes. Next came his shirt. He turned around to loosen his belt.

“I did not give you permission to turn your back to me.” He froze. “There's nothing there I haven't seen before,” she remarked coldly. He turned to face her again and wordlessly stripped out of his pants. He hesitated for another second, but when she didn't say anything, he also pushed down his boxers. Stepping out of them, he placed everything in a smile pile on the floor, before sitting down on the bench. She could see that he was forcing himself to relax.

“So,” she said, looking down at her own hand, noting the light tingle of the skin. “how long till our powers dissipate?”

Mon-El looked up at his mother and rubbed his forehead.

“I don't know, a couple of days, weeks perhaps.”

Rhea nodded. The queen activated the panel and the cell door slid to the side with a hiss. The time had come to for the direct confrontation with her son.

“I brought you these,” she declared and presented him with a set of metal bonds. “I know you can break them right now, but I want you to wear them, as a sign of your commitment to your promise.”

She reached for his hands. The cuffs fell into place with a satisfying click and a humm as they activated. Rhea grabbed his chin and forced him to face her. His pupils were side, his gray eyes dark in the dim light. For a second, she allowed herself to drink in the sight of him, his dark brow, the hint of stubble on his upper lip, his features the perfect union between herself and the king. Her blood. Her creation.

“I've missed you, I've thought about you every day since you disappeared” she said honestly. “Your hair is longer now, than the last time I saw you. Is this how the Kryptonian girl prefers it?” Her son tried to jerk away, but Rhea strengthened her grip, keeping him in place. This new yellow sun strength that flooded their bodies, intoxicating. His resistance could not be permitted. The journey back to Daxam would be long and arduous. So much more to prepare. She couldn't afford to waste any moment. “You were stolen from us. And I'm not gonna stand for it. Do you understand that? No matter what the costs, you will come back to me.”

She loosened her grasp on his jaw and rose up from the cell bench.

“I came here for a different reason. I'm here to apologize.” Her son struggled to hide his surprise and return to a blank expression. Rhea frowned. She didn't care for this new development. For as long as he lived, his eyes had been open to her. Flighty yes, sometimes even rebellious, but always so open and playful with his emotions. She continued. “It is my fault, that you are here. From the day you were born, I've tried to protect you. I spoiled you. I kept you away from all responsibilities. Now I see that that was a mistake. I left you open to be preyed upon.”

“I wasn't preyed upon. I finally saw the truth about my home, about our home.”

“We used to be so close, you an I. Whatever happened to us?”

“We were never close,” he spat out. “Before, I was nothing, and I had nothing of my own.”

“And what do you have now,” Rhea hissed back. “A tumble in the sheets with your high-minded Kryptonian whore? Wait, I forgot, she wasn't your whore. You were hers. That's why she sacrificed you.”

“I sacrificed myself, mother. You tried to kill the woman I love!”

“Don't be naive, son. She was using you.” Rhea leaned in and cupped his face. “I crossed the stars to find you. Will she? I gave you life. Never forget, you are my property, for as long as I will have you.” She straightened her back and willing him to see her in all her glory. He need to be reminded of what he had wanted to give up. “You tried to trade yourself to the Kryptonian. But everything you thought you were giving her, was never yours to give.”

Rhea saw the familiar fear flare up in this eyes and a deep sense of satisfaction settled over her. He was not lost to her after all. She had gotten a foot in the door. All she needed now was to capitalize. “The time for idle games is over,” she announced. “You will be king some day. I was wrong to try to spare you the harshness of life. I wanted you to be happy, I wanted to give you all the freedoms in the world, but I see now that that was a mistake. We all were given this great test of our strength and I will see to it that you will rise to the occasion. You might not understand it now, but everything that is done, is done for your benefit. You are royalty. Your entire existence is duty. Wherever you go, your life will be in danger, and it's time you learned this the hard way.”

***

 

Rhea stared at the holo in her hand. Just like she had done so many times since the destruction of Daxam. This one showed herself, during Mon-El's birth. She looked at the tension on her own face, her screams of pain and anger, embedded into the background sounds of the encouraging murmurs of the midwives and the prayers of the clerics, till the sound of her son's first cries mixed in with her voice.

“Your majesty.”

Putting the holo container aside, the Daxamite queen straightened her back and gripped the handles of her throne.

“Bara,” she said, greeting him with a nod. Bara was her interrogation expert and he was … _controversial_ even by Daxamite standards. “I've always been very fond of you. Many times I've held my hand over you, when others tried to undermine your position.” She didn't wait for a reply and continued. “Bara, now I find myself needing your help. I'm worried.” She paused for dramatic effect.

“I'm worried about my son. I know the troops have been restless. Don't deny it. I can hear their whispers. The ones who thought this would be a fool's errand.” Incidentally, everybody who had voiced any concern had been executed, but Rhea knew these thing had a way of staying in the heads of people, even when nobody dared to say them out loud.

“My queen, the soldiers would never! Our loyalty is to you!”

“No, no, I understand. Many of you were separated from loved ones, on a journey with an unclear destination. I'm deeply ashamed that now that we finally achieved our mission, my son would prove to be so … ungrateful. I would not be surprised if the soldiers felt betrayed by their prince, even angry.” She lowered her voice to a conspirative whisper. “That's why I need you, why I need your unique skills. My son has strayed from the right path. He never had to learn about the harshness of life and he has so little time left to learn. He is still weak, malleable. I need somebody to forge him into a great king.”

Pinning him down with her gaze, Rhea raised her voice to issue her command. “Take four of your men and teach the prince a lesson, for his own benefit. Let this be my message to my soldiers that their needs, their future is always first on my mind. Do not hold back because he might one day be your king. I will hold my protective hand over you and I promise, one day you'll all have his everlasting gratitude. Do what is necessary.”

Bara was nearly tripping over himself with the honor that was being bestowed on him and Rhea dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She knew that her master torturer desired her. He was dedicated to her in slavish devotion, he feared her and he admired her. The aura of regency providing an insurmountable obstacle of almost religious awe, putting her forever out of his reach. Getting his hand on her blood would undoubtedly prove irresistible for this pitiful simple man. Rhea had a feeling that it would be her face that Bara would picture the entire time. 

Running her fingers over the holo generator, she pondered her life. How could her son betray her like this? Yes, she had always given him too much freedom, had granted him a life free of responsibilities and ambition, free of anything that could lead to strife within her family. The perfect, happy, youth. Shouldn't he have been at least grateful for that? Maybe all of this should have happened a lot sooner, but still it saddened her that Mon-El had forced her hand like this.

***

 

Lar Gand stared out into the dark vastness of space, interspersed with far away glow of foreign stars. He couldn't believe that after such a long time of searching they finally had reached their goal.

A smile played across his lips when the door hissed and the reflection of Rhea appeared in front him, caught in the dark window.

“My queen, you look luminous, as always. How is our son?”

“Obstinate.”

Lar Gand had never had had much opportunity to see a lot of his son. Rhea and he were a team. And part of this perfect teamwork was a strict separation of duties. Even before Mon-El had been born she had insisted that any and all childrearing be left to her and, as in all areas, she expected blind and unwavering support. And so most of his memories of his son concerned official functions and their shared meals when Mon-El would report on his successes (or lack thereof) in school.

The king had learned many times already that it was only to all their benefit when Rhea got her way. Truth to be told, she probably had more queen inside than he had king. Coming from a small but proud house, one who had even ruled for a short time, long before his family had come into power, she had bewitched him from the moment he first saw her. He had courted her relentlessly. It had been unheard of that anybody would let a future king stew for this long. Still, her feigned indifference had only incited his desire for her even further. And once she had given in to him, their love had defied all social customs.

After the surprising death of his future latch, he had seized the opportunity and exploited it ruthlessly. Extracting Rhea from her own contract had been a lengthy and expensive negotiation, but he had gladly paid the price. And after she returned victorious from battle after battle, even the loudest critics gave up their resistance and welcomed her ascension to the throne.

As queen, she had proven to be even more formidable than as a warrior, navigating the treacherous currents of royal life like a fish taking to water.

“When do I get to see him again?”

“He's not ready yet,” Rhea said sullenly. It was not often that she got denied what she wanted. “Leave him to me.”

“As always.”

Lar Gand put his arm around her shoulder and together they surveyed the expanse of space in front of them.

“A Kryptonian temptress,” he mused.

“… that I would ever live to see the day,“ Rhea finished his sentence.

He squeezed her shoulders lightly. “You will succeed. You always do. And before you know it, we will be back home. Ready for the first days of our new lives.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

> _I am your mother. You do not dictate the terms of our relationship._
> 
> Rhea in Distant Sun

“What do you mean they are gone. J'onn, please. I need him.”

“The ship has left orbit. And we can't track them further than the moon,” Winn said. “I can hack into NASA, we can try to see whether they cross any of our space exploration satellites, but it's a long shot.”

“They travel too fast. We were under orders of the president to let them go,” J'onn added in a gravely voice. “You said he agreed to go with them.”

“He didn't want to. I know he didn't. He only went because of me. I need to talk to him. I need to know that he's okay.” Distraught, Kara bit her lip. Tears were welling up in her eyes and without waiting for a reply she whooshed off into the night sky. Pushing straight up, she propelled herself higher and higher.

“Kara, Kara come down, you are not prepared for space flight. And you don't even know where they went,” Alex voice sounded in her ear.

Kara's body was shaking, whipped around by the cold, fast winds of the higher layers of the atmosphere. Her eyes vainly searched the sky. should have called backup. I took the risk. We shouldn't have tried this alone.

“Kara, Kara, please.”

By now, tears were flowing freely from her eyes and freezing against her cheeks. Her whole world had been pulled away from under her and she hadn't even seen it coming.

“Mon-El,” she whimpered softly into the darkness, but the gusts of wind were the only reply.


***

When she came to visit him, she found Mon-El curled up on the floor, next to a pool of dried blood. Impressive. His yellow sun strength and healing was still in effect. Even though all lead on the ship had been sequestered and was inaccessible to anyone except here, the guards had found a way to make him bleed. Rhea signaled the servant to place the fresh change of clothing on the floor, outside the cell, within view, but just out of reach.

She draped the blanket they had brought over her arm and entered the cell. Wrapping the rough cloth around his shoulders, she helped him up. Her son winced as she guided him to back onto the cell's bench. Rhea wrapped one arm around him and placed her head on his shoulder. Her other hand found his. “I'm so sorry, what you had to go through. I know you don't believe me, but I'm suffering with you.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “Everything I do, is to protect you. You know if your father had his way...”

Mon-El laughed unhappily. Rhea frowned.

“You don't believe me.”

Her son stared blankly at the floor between his feet. “Everybody knows how you treat your enemies.”

“Then, don't be my enemy.”

“I'm not.”

“Then stop behaving like one.”

“I already said, I would do what you want.”

“You have to mean it,” she said coldly. Then, softening her tone, she ran her hand through his hair. “Don't worry. I know in my heart that the day will come when you'll be begging me to give you back your old status.” She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “None of this is your fault. You shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here. We should all be home already. You were my one mistake. And you know me, I never make mistakes. That's why I'll do everything in my power to rectify this one.”

He sat there unmoving, as if made from stone. It angered her.

Rhea reached into the folds of her dress and retrieved a leaden knife. She felt her son tense. “Turn around,” she ordered. Slowly he moved to turn his back to her. Running one hand over his head, she brought the knife up and slowly began to shave off strands his hair. It wasn't the most effective way, but there would hardly be a sense to fashioning scissors out of a material that was deadly to them all, just for this occasion. She was reminded of performing the same act on some of her soldiers in the field. For a second she contemplated taking his eyebrows too.

“I will make you new,” she said. “Just like Daxam will be made new, better and stronger than before. I won't stop till every last trace of poison is drained from your body.”

“I'm your son, not your soldier.”

Rhea grabbed his hair and roughly yanked his head back. “Have you still not learned to respect me? You don't get to define our relationship.” Disgusted, she pushed him forward and sheathed her knife.

***

Rhea stormed onto the observation deck, fuming. King Lar Gand smiled. She could be so stubborn and from what he knew of his son, he must have gotten some of that as well. Welcoming her, he slung one arm around her shoulders.

“I don't feel like it,” she said grumpily.

He smiled. “Not getting what you want,” he teased. Lar Gand leaned in and whispered into her ear. “I seem to remember another reckless prince who fell in love with a young warrior.”

Rhea made a face. “But not with a Kryptonian. If you had, I sure hope your mother would have had the sense to stop you.”

“I'm sure she would have failed.” Lar Gand pulled his wife into an embrace and began to move. Even without music, they swayed softly, remembering all the times they had danced, together in their home. “They say that for some mothers it is hard to let their sons go.”

Rhea twirled away under his arm and returned back to him. “What are you trying to imply?”

“Oh, nothing.”

He could see her wrestling with the temptation to explain once again, why this was important, not just for her, but for all of Daxam, and the desire to just enjoy the moment.

They had a long journey ahead of them, he'd do everything to make sure it was the latter.

***

Rhea surveyed the reports on the latest operation against the traitors. Anger rose up in her. How could gold regiment still be failing to crush them like she had ordered. Instead they kept sending her requests for further guidance. What part about _No mercy_ was so hard to understand? Had they too been infected by the enemy's propaganda, attacking her troops will to fight against their own kin?

Deftly she ordered the dosage of combat stims to be increased. It did not please her. Their reserves were running low and without means to fabricate them, they were expensive. She added orders that examples should be made out of any fighters who showed restraint against the enemy.

Next to her, the king slept soundly and she reached over to run her hand along his naked back. Despite everything, she loved her king. He had handed her everything she wanted, everything she deserved, freely, willingly, without hesitation. They had been glorious when they were young, passionate, ruthless, perfectly in sync. The memory brought a smile to her lips. Maybe it was sentiment that had caused her to forgive him his weakness.


	3. Chapter 3

> _Your home is gone and taking us with it. This is your punishment._
> 
> Ban in Star-Crossed
> 
>  

_35 years earlier_

“Your majesty. We have received an a secret transmission, addressed to you personally. From Krypton.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow. “Show me.”

The holo flickered into action, showing the symmetric face of a woman. Her hair was long and brown except for one light strand. Rhea recognized her immediately.

“I'm general Astra In-Ze of Krypton. I'm contacting you as my last resort. My planet, our planets are in great danger. The Kryptonian high council is trying to cover up the truth. I extend my hand to you as an ally. Together we can overcome the threat to both our worlds.”

“Do you think it's legit?”

“The intelligence experts believe so. She sent along a bulk of scientific data. She wants to meet in person and she requests protection for herself and her husband.”

Astra, Astra and Non asking for Daxam's protection. What a curious development. Though they had never met in battle, they had come close. It had to be killing that haughty Kryptonian to come crawling to her derided enemy. Unless this was some sort of trap.

“Let the science guild examine the data. And have them launch the covert drones to orbit Krypton and scan them from a safe distance.”  


“Your majesty, our treaties with Krypton forbid any ….”

“That's why they must not be caught. The Kryptonians don't know about our latest toy from our Durlan allies. Collect data. Don't engage. And check whether all off planet communication, whether there has been any contact between Krypton and house Yat.”

***

“We caught him in time. He was trying to reach the king. We couldn't find any weapons.”

A yellow Saturnian. How creative. Rhea surveyed the twisting body with it's broken, flayed skin. Bara had once more given preference to his old fashioned methods, not being satisfied with what the mem stimulators could do.

“Did he reveal who sent him?”

“Not yet, your majesty.”

“Kill him.”

“My queen! I'm sure we could get him to give up more details, with a little more time.”

“I don't need details. Kill him.” For a moment she considered ordering them to sever his head and send it to Marlan Yat as a present. But she suppressed the urge. “Disintegrate the body and never speak of him again.”

“Should we inform the king of the attempt on his life?”

“No, leave that to me.”

***

“Husband.”

“Rhea.” His face lit up. His desk was littered with new arcane artifacts that his scholars had uncovered. “I didn't expect to see you today. What brings you here?”

“House Yat, they grow more presumptuous every day,” Rhea pouted. Well, of course she didn't pout. A queen like her would never pout. But an uninformed spectator might have thought she was pouting. “They never liked me.”

“They are kin to house Vir.”

“I should crush them both for their insolence.”

He looked at from the side. “I remember a certain formidable queen explaining to me in great detail, why this wouldn't be a wise decision, because of the effect it would have on the gingold trade.”

“The people have grown ungrateful. They have forgotten all that we have done for them.” She slung her arms around him. “Let us talk about more cheerful things.” She smiled wickedly. “I want to take a trip with you, husband.”

“A trip?”

“I want to go to Dominion, to seal the treaty with our new allies. Let us take five divisions and celebrate with all the pomp we can muster. They mustn't have any doubts about the might of Daxam. We demand to be treated as equal partners.”

“Five divisions?”

“Yes, gold, torquat, rorrk, quam and blade. In our best warships. The two of us, out in the field, just like old times.”

“Those are your favorite and most loyal troops.”

“The men deserve some glory, and what better way to make an impression on our new allies?”

“You think that that is wise, with all the unrest in the lower houses?”

Rhea bristled at the notion. “They wouldn't dare to rise up. Besides, it's time Mon-El got a chance to prove himself.”

“Can I expect that always pleasant Marlan Yat to join us?”

“No.”

“No? Whatever happened to keeping a close eye on your enemies?”

“Not this time.” She smiled. “This time, all I want is a good time.”

***

“So you won't be here for the festivities?”

“No, we won't. That's why I want you to host them. I've already made it clear to every minor house, that it is their duty to attend.” She smiled. “Most of them are very eager to come.”

Mon-El grinned. “Hoping to inspect the future merchandise.”

“Well, your father and I are in no hurry to retire, but let them gawk. One more thing. I've invited the Kryptonian ambassador to stay at the palace for the next month. I expect you to entertain him and make sure he stays put.”

The prince frowned. “Krypton? Are we changing our stance on them?”

“We aren't. But let's just say I have plans for him. Insist that he be at your side at the meals at all times. Be sure to remind him every day, I send my best regards.”

Mon-El nodded and bowed. She had pulled him away from his friends and their rorrk hunt and she could tell he was eager to return to it. His eyes widened in surprise when she put her hand on his shoulder and kissed his forehead. “We are going off world in two days, but we are leaving for Spacehaven today to prepare for the journey. I'll see you soon.”

“See you soon, mother.”

“And Mon-El?”

“Yes?”

“Send me your personal guard, I have to speak to him.”

***

 

“It's too soon,” she said. In front of her, debris rained down on, exploding like bombs as it hit the ground. Dust and the screams of victims filled the air.

“Rhea, we have to leave.”

She tore herself away from the apocalyptic spectacle and grabbed her husbands hand. The ship's teleporter washed over them. Not all of the troops had reached Spacehaven yet. Their ships weren't even halfway boarded. Around them, the shields sprung into action with their signature humm. Their surroundings still shook with the force of impact as several pieces of wreckage pelted them.

“What is this?” her husband yelled. "Meteor storm? How could this be?”

Shaken, but not destroyed, their ship lifted off from the ground. They grazed the tower of the space port, as another large piece nearly knocked them off course.

“Rise, rise, dammit,” she ordered, as the pilots struggled to gain air. Next to them, the phoenix ruptured into a large ball of fire. Torquat division had been on there. At least twelve thousand lives snuffed out in a single moment. They had fought under her in the attack of the yellow Lanterns.

Her knuckles nearly turned white from the force with which she had held Lar Gand's hand, but she disentangled herself and too position behind the pilot's seat.

“We will live,” she vowed. “We will live.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Our planet died on my and my husband's watch. For our people to rise again, they need a future_

Rhea in Star Crossed

 

Kara tried to breathe deeply. She knew it was a long shot and probably idiotic, but she had to try.

“This is Supergirl, last daughter of Krypton, champion of earth, calling the Daxamite ship of King Lar Gand and Queen Rhea, please respond. I …,” Kara's mouth opened and closed without a sound. She balled her hands into fist. “Let us negotiate.”

Shutting off the recording device, Kara felt so helpless. She had nothing. No leverage. No credible threat. She didn't even know where they were. All she could do was hope against hope that her message would reach him. That at least he would know that she was trying to find him. At least he would know that she cared. That maybe, maybe it would change their hearts.

Alex came and wrapped her arm around Kara's shoulder. “They are his parents. Surely they won't let anything happen to him. Maybe one day they'll understand.”

“They tried to hurt me. He, he used to say that he was scared of them. That his father was a cruel man. He didn't want to leave, Alex. He wanted to be with me.”

“They're still his parents. How bad could it be?”

***

 

He didn't think of her not directly. Mon-El knew it was irrational. His mother wasn't a mind reader. Still, she seemed to have the uncanny ability to know what was going on his head, whenever she looked at him. It was as if she could dirty everything he cared about, just by knowing about it.

As a child, he had been taught to hide his thoughts. Not enough to truly defy a powerful telepath, but just enough to always add a layer of static noise. In case an enemy had hired a cheap one, who was trying to listen in, trying to uncover the secrets of the royal family. Back on Daxam, it had almost become a second nature, something he didn't give up till months into his stay on earth. He still remembered how is had all fallen away, the first time he had kissed her. As if his mind wanted create the perfect silence, the most pristine blank slate, so it could take in and preserve that one perfect moment before death. 

Now it was back, the constant feeling of threat in the background. And so, he hid his memories, everything about earth, he bunched together. He pictured placing all those moments together, in a garden, behind a twenty foot wall. Unreachable, no door. A protective wall that encircled a place where light and friendship and happiness were possible, as he created a parapet of stay thoughts and telepathic noise.

Sometimes he allowed himself to close his eyes and picture that the wall of his cell was that wall and he was leaning against it, hoping to catch just the most fleeting sound of bubbling laughter rising up on the other side.

So, no, even in his darkest hour. He didn't think of her. 

Much. 

***

 

Rhea's fingers drummed restlessly against the datapad. It wasn't the right time. There was still work to do, so many decisions to make. Her people relied on her. Ever since her husband had withdrawn into his religious studies, more than ever everybody had looked to her.

Once more she reviewed the reports. Aside from the punitive measures against the rebels, the majority of her survivors were still engaged on Cartoos V, retaking an old fief of theirs. Progress was slow, once more. Too slow.

For moment her thoughts strayed to this other planet, Terra, Earth. They had been faster there, more resilient. She wondered how much easier it would be to make progress there. Those humans were still to clueless, poorly organized. Maybe one day... 

Her fingers strained across the datapad. Should she indulge herself, when there was still so much to do? Wasn’t she a queen, who could do as she pleased? She forced herself to finish her replies. Now it was time for her reward.

The holo that popped up had become one of her favorites in the years after the calamity. It had been recorded less than a week before the carnage that had befallen their planet. Mon-El, at the traditional rorrk hunt. She had been too busy to attend in person, but she had made sure the recording was made. For most of his life she had made an effort to keep him out of the public spotlight. She had studied her history. She knew how reigns could be torn apart by feuding families, by heirs thinking they knew better and greedily reaching for the crown before their time and she had vowed it would never happen to her.  

Here, he was glorious. His eyes sparkled with a lust for adventure, his smile easy and inviting. Rhea could see him brimming with potential, this effortless ease with which he answered questions and gave the audience what they wanted. The warmth with which he included his companions and made them feel important. She always studied her own recordings, analyzing every detail, practicing every move to perfection. Presentation was power.

In her heart, she knew Mon-El would be excellent. He would be the face to her politics and the people would love them. He would be her symbol of their new beginning. That’s why she had kept him untouched by politics. The perfect blank slate for their people to project their hopes and dreams, the perfect clay for her to mold. Together they would forge a new Daxam, one that had been cleansed and hardened by the hardship that had struck their home and washed away the ones that were not worthy.

 

***

 

The queen approached her sons cell in an unusually good mood. She walked with swaying hips, absentmindedly humming a song, not paying any heed to the servant scuttling a few feet behind her. A smile danced across her lips and it widened when she laid eyes on her son. He was laying curled up sideways on the prison bench. When he saw her approach, he struggled to prop himself to a sitting position with a visible wince. One deep breath, a clench of his fists and he was back to his feigned indifference.

Rhea signaled the servant to hand her the bowl her was carrying, before removing himself from the scene. She threw her son a mocking gaze and dipped a spoon into the sweet smelling concoction before bringing it to her lips. _See, no poison._  

The queen laughed at the ridiculousness of their situation. Balancing the bowl on one hand, she opened the door to the cell and stepped inside. “How is my favorite son today?” She thought she saw a light twitch of the corner of his mouth. Feeling victorious she took seat next to him and, leaning back slightly, inspected his back. She frowned. The remainders of the last session hadn’t completely faded yet.

Rhea leaned her head against her son’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I wish you didn’t have to go through all this.”

She dipped the spoon into the bowl and held it up to his lips. Mon-El’s shoulders twitched. He was battling his desire to reject the offer, wrestling with his promise to obey. Finally he closed his eyes and opened his mouth, allowing her to push the spoon between his lips. Not used to normal, delectable food anymore, he winced when the unfamiliar taste his his mouth. Rhea smiled, satisfied.

“You know, your father cares about the old ways, he always has. What you said, you really offended him,” she continued, feeding him another spoon. “If you keep resisting him, I won’t be able to protect you anymore.”

Mon-El looked at her calmly.

“Bara is your man. He’s always been your man.”

She froze. “What do you mean?”

“If my father wants to punish me, why doesn’t he send his own men? Why isn’t he here himself...”

“He always uses my men,” she interrupted him. “He always has. He always forces me to hurt you. You know this.”

“Yes,” he repeated and looked away. “Yes, I know this.”

 

***

"Kneel," she ordered. When he didn’t react immediately, she hooked one finger into the link between his cuffs and yanked. He was pulled forward and his knees connected with the floor with a satisfying crack. She ran her hand through his hair.

“I want you to hold on to my leg, just like you used to.” Their eyes battled as she willed him to remember that he had promised her obedience. And slowly, he acquiesced. He shuffled closer to her on his knees, clumsily navigating his bound hands, his fingers stretching to touch her foot. His shoulder connected with her thigh and like a child, he rested his head against her, his cheek rubbing against her dress. Rhea ran her hand through his hair, her fingertips coming to rest on the nape of his neck. Finally they were together again. She drank in the sight.  

There was nothing more intoxicating than the love of a child. She hadn't been the most attentive mother, leaving much of the day to day bustle to handmaidens and guards. Yet still, there was this power. It had always fascinated her that he _knew_ her. Even among all the women who had raised him, who spent most of his days at his side, with all the other women and teachers who visited, it had still be ingrained in him that _she_ was the one who mattered. It was her approval that he had sought.  

Rhea remembered, visiting him in his crib. Staring down at this helpless bundle of creature, unsure what to do, what to feel. Back then his eyes had still been a clear blue and he had looked at her in childlike amazement. They had both looked at each other, till she couldn’t stand it anymore and backed away. Just as she was about to hurry out, she noticed it, he had started to cry. She froze and turned around. She inched closer to his bed and when she leaned over it… he stopped. He looked up to her, little tears still on his chubby little cheeks, almost in shock that she had come back. Unused to children, the queen never had felt this way, but in this moment she realized for the first time that her life was different now, that she was a mother and this little bundle of _something_ in front of her would now forever be a part of her. She leaned back, just out of his sight and immediately his piercing scream of anguish tore through the room. Hurriedly, she leaned forward again and once more the crying stopped. Almost entranced she did it over and over, testing out the boundaries of it, how far she could step away, how it changed the texture of his cries, till the night nurse came in and the queen left in an embarrassed hurry. She would never forget that moment and that overwhelming rush of power she had felt, the knowledge that her mere presence had utter and complete control over the happiness and pain of another being.

Lost in her thoughts, she felt him starting to shift beside her, trying to re-balance his his weight on his his knees to be more comfortable. Without loosening his grip, he looked up to her. There was no fear in his eyes. Nor was there any affection. Instead they were calm, shrouded. Resisting. It angered her.

“What?” she hissed.

“Nothing,” he said slowly. “I just finally see you for what you really are.”

She slapped him. And then she slapped him again for good measure. When he didn’t flinch, she dug her nails into the back of his neck.

“You…! You!”

Anger exploded inside of her. He had ruined it. He had ruined her moment of calm. Her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him, causing him to lose balance as she stepped away.

"Bara!" the queen screamed as she strode down the hallway and within seconds that wretched creature was in her sights, hurrying towards her. Meeting him on her path, she grabbed his arm. "You failed," she spat out. "Hurt him more."

She brushed past him, not bothering to check his reaction. Two step later she paused for a second. “And remember, no scars!”.

 

***

 

“Your majesty, a transmission, from the Kryptonian.”

Lar Gand raised an eyebrow. The holo flickered up in front of him. The Kryptonian looked … dejected. A young girl trying to make a brave face. His son's friend, trying to find him. Her posture and the look on her face saying much more than the words she way saying. 

He couldn’t deny that there was something puzzling to her. The king had never really paid much attention to his son‘s taste in women, other than having aides assure that those tastes were healthy and plentiful, as was becoming of a Daxamite heir, that no reorientation treatment would be required. The occasional scandal large enough to reach even his ear had always been handled by Rhea and from what he could tell it had never gone beyond calming down some enraged relatives or dignitaries. This one, she confused him. She was sweet looking, in a plain sort of way. It was hard to reconcile the picture in front of him with the creature who had tried to attack their ship all by her lonesome self.

With a short wave of his hand, the king signaled his servants to delete the recording. He didn’t want to give Rhea another reason to be in a foul mood. He left the bridge and made his way to the ceremonial chapel. He enjoyed the solemnity of this place. It gave him peace. He had spent many nights and days here, brooding over books and artifacts, trying to make sense of their fate. Listlessly he ran his hand over the old, sacred texts.

In many ways, his son was a stranger to him. Lar Gand realized that he has just assumed that his son would be like him, as far as his interests were concerned. He remembered dalliances from his youth, dalliances with off-worlders. Nuisances, interesting nuisances, but nuisances nonetheless. Daxamite lovers were savy, they knew their value, they knew the rules of the game and their options.

Off-worlders… they sometimes came with their own ideas about love and relationships. A trait that sometimes made them quite adorable. Even though, or rather, because he had left Mon-El’s education fully in Rhea’s hand, he would have expected his son to be able to handle situations like this appropriately.

However, the king of Daxam reminded himself, Mon-El had been stranded on earth for several months, without his home, his family, with no way of knowing that he would ever be rescued, living the life of a nobody. Maybe in conditions like this it made sense that what would normally have been a short tryst at most, had grown into something more. Maybe in conditions like that, foolish dreams of love and glory and heroism could spawn.

The king’s shoulders felt heavy. The air inside the ship was stale and there was always this barely perceptible hum. He wouldn’t have have pegged his son to be the type who would long for a simpler life. Oh how he himself had longed for that, after the calamity befell Daxam. He had failed his planet, his people. Maybe, maybe he could have granted his son, what he himself had been denied, the chance to run away and leave it all behind.

Nonsense! Lar Gand shook his head, chasing away foolish thoughts. Any opportunity for that had long since passed. Mon-El was with them now, their family restored and every second they moved farther and farther away from that planet that had so enthralled his son.

They had to look at the future. And in that future it would be best for Mon-El and Rhea to make their peace.

 

***

 

Unhappily the queen pushed the food around on her plate. Dark visions swirled through her mind. Maybe one day Bara would get foolish enough and seek her out, requesting "compensation" for his services. She didn't like that thought. He had been a useful resource so far. It would be such a nuisance to have to execute him and groom another one is his place. She hoped to the gods that he would not be deluded enough to think he could make demands on her, to think that she owed him. 

"What's ailing you, my queen?"

“It's not working. It's taking too long.” Rhea angrily stabbed her fork into the meat in front of her. “I'm getting a memory shaper.”

The king swallowed hard. “Is this really necessary?” he offered.

Her hard eyes bore into him. “You doubt my decisions?”

“Of course not,” he assured her.

"There is no time. He's not prepared. There's still so much left I have to teach him. I can't afford to wait a day longer." 

“If anybody could do it, it would be you, my love,” the king said, meaning to flatter her.

Rhea pursed her lips. This meant that he was trying to goad her into doing something else instead of agreeing with her. Listlessly, she stabbed her two pronged fork into the meat rations in front of her.

“Your son angered me,” she said pointedly. Rhea didn’t have to check to know that Lar was surprised. It wasn’t her nature to admit that something was getting to her. Especially not something that couldn’t just be squashed and resolved instantly after she had voiced her displeasure. She looked up and glared at her husband. _He_ had been a weak father. _He_ had left it completely to her to raise their son. _He_ has been too soft to make the tough choices.

“Why does he treat me this way?” she complained. “I’m his mother!”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story time: I had this chapter written more than a month ago inside ao3 and then... ao3 ate it. It crashed and ao3 doesn't autosave :( It got me so angry it killed my desire to write for ages. I know not a lot of people like this fic, but it just became the kind of thing that I had to get out of my system before moving on to anything else.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

> _We thought we were lost. That we would be the last generation of Daxamites. But for your mother's strength, despair would have overwhelmed us._
> 
> Lar Gand in Distant Sun

 

“Let's think about this, Daxam is 4 years away, but Mon-El sent his distress call only 9 months ago. They must have been elsewhere when they received his signal.”

“And you think if we figure out where they were then...”

“Then maybe they'll go there again.”

“You don't know that.”

“We have to try. Have we made any progress on the ship?”

“It's an unknown design. But our databases say parts of if might be from Durla.”

“Durla?” Alex asked.

“A race of shapeshifters. Traditionally allied with the Dominators,” J'onn explained.

Kara bit her lip. “Queen Rhea mentioned that she got information from the Dominators. Maybe they are allied. Let's start checking the planets with Dominator influence first.”

Alex nodded. “Maggie and I will check at the alien bar whether anybody has eyes or ears on Dominion.” She slung her arm around her sister's shoulder. "Kara, I'm worried about you."

"Don't be."

 

***

He tried not to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw _her_. He dreamed of her, swooping in from the side, bathed in light, like she a messenger from Rao himself. He would fantasize about the look of determination in her eyes, how she would break open the door with one swift kick, the light pouring in with her. He imagined wanting to tell her how glad he was to see her again. And then her hands were on his wrists and she tore apart his shackles.

A single tear slid down Mon-El’s cheek and he tried to wipe it away with his shoulder. It was getting worse now. He didn’t even have to close his eyes anymore to see her. He tried to fight it, but it was starting to overpower him. He was cracking, falling apart and it was only a matter of time till his mother would start to notice.

Was it even right to resist? Maybe it would be easier to play the along, bide his time, look for a for the right opportunity to run. No. In his heart he knew it was over, no mattered what happened, it would never be the same, he would never see his heart again. But she had changed his life and if he had understood anything then that Supergirl would never bend, she would never compromise, she would never stand for any injustice. She would never take the easy route.

If he couldn’t see her again, the least could do was to uphold what she had taught him.

 

***

 

Lar Gand sense tell his wife's frustration. When she was tense, the whole ship was tense. He tried his best to ease her spirits. Instead she retreated deeper and deeper into her obsession. Lar Gand knew how stubborn she could be, how every and any defeat gnawed at her.

He had a guess that maybe their son must have inherited some of that stubbornness. Mon-el hadn't been there, for all the years of despair and prayer. How could he fathom the crushing disappointment Rhea had to have felt after finding Mon-el, only to have their son reject them. If only he could be made to understand, how much this meant to Rhea.

Despite Rhea's wishes, the temptation to see his son was overwhelming. After all this time, the king knew the ship like the back of his hand. And now, after so much time, his son was within reach. Lar Gand longed to lay his eyes upon his son, and above all, he longed to pull Rhea out of her darkness.

Everybody knew, there was no wrath greater than his queens when she was disobeyed. Still, the thought of bringing a peaceful end to their conflict, it made Lar Gand's nerve ends tingle. It was not his habit to go against her decisions and encroach on her territory, an agreement fought out long and arduously, many years ago, when they were still young. Maybe it was time to look to the future and make a change.

He wanted her to be happy and it made his heart ache to watch her bury herself deeper and deeper into darkness. For too many years they had lived side by side, each in their own despair. Lar knew he hadn't always been a good king, at least not since the calamity. He had let grief overwhelm him and handed most of the responsibility over to Rhea, too wrapped up in his own pain to ease hers. But then, that moment when they received the distress call. It had been like a new lease on life.

And maybe it was time to take advantage of that. 

***

 

Nobody tried to stop him or questioned his presence. Why would they? It was his ship. The only reason why he had never ventured into this part was by his own choosing. His choice to respect Rhea's wishes. Was it not his prerogative to change his mind for once? Wordlessly he signaled the guards to leave and approached the cell. Reacting to the sound of the king's footsteps, his son stirred and propped himself up to a sitting position on his bench.

Lar Gand recoiled. He knew of the infamously brutal initiation rites among the guards, but he had never expected to see their telltale signs on his own son. In the back of his mind, he had known that Rhea was doing _something_ , but this?

“Your grace, to what do I own the honor of this visit,” Mon-El said. His voice sounded coarse and raspy and yet dripping with sarcasm at the same time. “Have you come personally to admire your guards' work?”

The king frowned. “I've come to see if there is a way to put an end to this madness.” He stepped closer to the cell's bars. “You are young, you have ideas. I understand, but this is not the time. Your mother won't hear of it. You need to leave this behind you, begin a new life. She worked so hard to get you back and your words offend her, they upset her.”He wished he could make his son understand, the way Rhea ticked. She was a force on nature, harsh, brutal, beautiful, unstoppable. It was pointless to resist her. In the end she always got her way.

“You have no idea what we all went through, after the calamity. Your mother loves you. Do you even know, how many implored us to choose another relative as successor. One of my blood or of hers. But she never relented. She never gave up. She never lost hope.”

“I wish she would have!”

“You are being ungrateful. Understand her. Give her a chance to forgive you. Few people in the entire verse could even dream of that.”

Mon-El laughed mirthlessly. “And this is supposed to be worth all this.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating the cell and his entire desolate condition. “Is this what you want for me?”

“Your mother has her reasons,” the king said between gritted teeth. “She has plans for us, for Daxam, for you. And she has proven again and again to be right.”

“And what about you? What do you want?”

“I long to see our family reunited. To sit together and share our meals, like we used to.” Dejected, the king turned to leave, his son's cold laughter ringing in his ears. For the barest moment, he stalled his step when he heard his son's voice behind him. 

“For all my life, I used to be scared of you. Now I realize I don't even know you at all.”

 

***

 

She watched every recording from the surveillance in Mon-El's cell. It was her duty, as a mother and a queen, the burden of knowledge. She wouldn't hide from her orders, would not pretend that she hadn't known what was happening under her watch, in her name. And so she watched every single one of them. The ones where he tried to fight back, the ones where he didn't. The ones where he tried to make jokes, which only increased the guards' anger. The ones where he just _took it_ passively.

His healing was beginning to wane and they had to start bringing him to the medbay to mend him. Rhea began to pace. At this point, she had intended to urge her guards, the enforcers of her will, to ratchet up the intensity. But those necessary trips to medbay, over and over again, were ruining any sense of pace.

At times the queen longed to join the punishment sessions, to make sure they were steering in the right direction, that they were achieving the desired result, but she worried that seeing her son, right in front of her, would weaken her resolve. Under no circumstances could she appear weak in front of the subordinates. Her strength was what kept the ship together. Her people deserved nothing less.

Shutting down the holo recording, the Daxamite queen rose. Even though she had vowed not to attend her son's punishments personally, this day she would at least see him while he was recovering.

Stalking down the dark corridors, she reminded herself of how sometimes the hated the ship her Dominator allies had supplied her with. The gloomy halls, the way the geometry never seemed to quite fit. Rhea longed for the golden elegance of their frigates, but they had had no choice, after 20 years, they were hopelessly out of date. They had done their best to outfit the Dominator ship with Daxamite technology, to make it home, but nothing could quite drive out the sense of dread emanating from those dark, long halls.

The medbay was one of the few exceptions, glowing in sterile white, with only a few dark elements. She found her son stretched out on the medical bed, the medibots emanating a soft humm as they hovered over him, trying to mend his latest injuries. It broke her heart to see him like this, and so she leaned over him and touched his face. She couldn't understand what _that girl_ had done to him, to make him act this way. 

“Why, "she whispered. "Why do you insist on fighting me?”

Tears welled up in his eyes and his voice cracked, “I don't know anymore.”


	6. Chapter 6

 

> _Your son has found a home here. Friends, a life He's happy. Don't take that away from him._
> 
> Kara in Distant Sun

“Kara, we need to talk.”

Alex grabbed her sisters hand and pulled her aside.

“What is it, do you have news?”

“No. At least not the kind you want hear.”

Kara’s face fell. Alex’ heart went out to her. She wrapped her arms across Kara’s shoulders and pulled her close. After a moment of hesitation, Kara hugged her back. She rested her head on her big sister’s shoulder. Alex knew that she’d barely slept at all for the last few weeks.

Kara took one deep breath and pulled herself together again.

“What was it you wanted to tell me, Alex?”

Alex gulped. “There has been an inquiry. Central command wanted to know about the spike in our energy consumption.”

Kara looked confused.

“The transmatter portal. You and J’onn went through it seven times in the last few weeks.”

“So?”

“Every time you switch it on, it consumes as much energy as a small city in an entire year. Kara, people will find out.”

“I don’t understand.”

Alex sighed. She would have to spell it out for her sister. “J’onn is risking his job for you. Everybody is risking their job for you.”

“But Mon-El...”

“We were under direct orders not to engage with the Daxamites. If you get caught, you could lose your job at the DEO.”

Kara’s eyes blazed with anger. “I don’t care.”

“I know you don't. But what if you got fired, if I got fired, if J’onn got fired? You would lose all access to the portal, and what would you do then?”

“J’onn said...”

“J’onn loves you like his own daughter and her cares about Mon-El. He feels guilty about what happened. He would do anything for you. And you, you are exhausted. You’ve been hanging on a thread ever since...”

“Ever since Mon-El was abducted, you mean?”

“Ever since his parents left with him.”

“What do you expect me to do? To just give up?” Tears were welling up in her sister’s eyes and it was breaking Alex’ heart. She pulled Kara into another hug and rested her cheek against Kara’s hair.

“No, little one,” she whispered. “I just need you to be more careful, for J’onn, for Eliza and for yourself.”

Kara was shaking now, sobbing openly. Alex could tell it took all her self control not to cling to Alex in an undoubtedly rib-obliterating hug.

Suddenly, Kara pushed herself away and wrapped her arms around herself, as if she had to keep herself from falling apart.

“You think I’m being an idiot. That I’m pathetic, running after the first guy who happened to become my boyfriend. When he might not even want to be with me anymore.”

“No, no, that’s not what I think at all.”

Kara’s eyes were wide and just … overflowing, with so much anger. So much hurt. So much pain. Her voice was cracking and her fingers were trembling. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I need this. I need him, I need him back in my life. I have to believe. I just have to.” _That he’s okay. That he misses me as much as I miss him._

 

***

 

He dreamed of the kryptonian girl that night. She was among the endless sea of his voiceless Daxamites, all the ones who had died, all the ones he had failed. A gray cloak covered her figure and her golden hair, but her eyes bore into him, filled with reproach and disappointment. Those eyes ... maybe there was something to her after all, an intoxicating blend of vulnerability and strength.

He woke up in a cold sweat, his eyes immediately seeking Rhea’s sleeping form next to him. Her naked back turned to him, she stirred for barely a second before drifting back to sleep, her old warrior instincts still sharp and always primed to react to and assess any threat.

Even after all these years he still longed for her.

The memory of their first night was still vivid in his mind. She had been taunting him, mocking him for weeks. Then she had slapped him and when he grabbed her arms, she effortlessly had twisted out of his grasp, laughed in his face and slapped him again. He had hit her back, not by his own desire, but because he had sensed instinctively that was her challenge, her test for him, to be worthy to share her bed. And so he beat her that night while she laughed and gave as good as she got. When he pulled off her dress, her body was littered with scars, from battle and from elsewhere. She had them removed when she became queen, because she felt that as a queen she had to be without blemish. But back then, she had reveled in them.

Afterwards, when he woke up in her bed, she had stood by the window, naked, gazing far off into the distance. She had looked back at him over her shoulder and told him, “I will make Daxam great, will you be with me, or against me?” He got up, kissed her shoulder and never looked back.

***

“Your majesty.”

“Yes,” Rhea answered, unhappy that she had been interrupted in her thoughts.

“It's your son, he asked to see you. He's making quite … a commotion.”

“Is that so?” Rhea frowned, curious about the cause of this sudden change in behavior. Descending from her throne she made her way towards the prison section of the ship. From afar she could already hear the noise of somebody banging against the cell bars.

“You can stop now.”

Mon-El backed away from cell door and lowered his hands.

“Your guards stopped coming.”

“So?”

“They haven't 'visited' me here for three days. You are planning something,” he said in an accusatory voice.

“I don't know what you mean,” Rhea said, feigning ignorance.

“I think you want to give my wounds time to heal. I think that there is something where you need me to look like I'm okay.“

“This is not your concern.”

“So I'm right!” Her son bit his lip. “What is it? An important visitor? Planning to show me off? Time to play happy family?”

“You really do want to get punished again.”

Mon-El put his hands against the bar again. “Maybe I do?” he spat out.

“Well, I wouldn't be much of a parent if I just gave you want, would I?” Rhea turned around on her heel to leave.

“Please, don't take my memories.”

She froze.

“I know…, I know that's what you want and I'm asking you, if you ever cared for me at all, please, don't do this.” Rhea turned around. He had slumped down in front of the cell bars, trying to reach through them to touch the hem of her dress, but the cuffs prevented him.

“I'm sorry, mother, I'm sorry for disobeying you, I'm sorry for disrespecting, I'm sorry for hurting you.” By now, he was crying openly. “I want to help you, please, let me be your prince again. I'll do anything, anything you want. I beg of you, just don't take this away from me. I need them, they make me who I am. I promise, I'll find a way to make you proud. I understand, I know I deserve your punishment, but just this once have…,” His voice trailed off into a toneless whisper on the word 'mercy', as they both knew he was pleading for something that would never come.

The queen had waited for this moment, when he would finally break and submit to her. Only now, it was the wrong time, the wrong reason. Rhea extended her hand and touched his face through the bars, her fingertips feeling the wetness of his cheeks.

“I promise, it will be over soon,” she said, her voice full of tenderness. “You will feel much better. We'll all be together again, and we'll be happy.”

“No, mother, no, please, don't. You have to understand … ”

She turned around. Behind her, Mon-El grabbed the bars and started smashing his forehead against them, in the vain attempt to mark himself.

“Sedate him,” she told the guards. “And make sure he doesn't harm himself.”

 

***

 

“We have to talk.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow. It wasn't a usual occurrence that her husband brought something up to her, rather than the other way around.

“You made an agreement with the mind shapers.”

“Yes. They have agreed to send their representatives to meet us near Hykraius. I've already arranged the detour.”

“You have to find another way.”

Rhea stared at him incredulously. “This is the way. I decided it!”

“It's dangerous. He could be damaged permanently.”

“It won't happen.”

“You can't know that.”

“This is my call to make, not yours.”

The king crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I canceled the meeting with the shapers. And I'm contacting Arisia Vir with a request to parlay.”

Rhea's mouth hung open in shock. “You went behind my back. I'm doing this for us, for our family, for our future! You would undo everything I worked for!”

“You have gotten too close, Rhea,” he said and turned around to face the window, staring off into the darkness of space. “Once you calm down, you will see that this is for the best. We'll get through this.”

Without even thinking, she reached for the leaden knife underneath her cloak. At the press of her thumb, it slid soundlessly from its protective sheath. It made her fingers tingle. “No, we won't,” she replied. He turned to face her and despite all her experience in battle, this time it once more felt like a surprise, how easily the blade, disappeared between his ribs, meeting no resistance. His familiar blue eyes widened in shock and she watched the light in them disappear as he crumpled to the floor in front of her.

“You betrayed me, my love.”

 

***

 

The queen stood motionless, looking down on the lifeless body in front of her. Her companion. Her mate. Her love. It might have been just a fleeting moment, no longer than one flutter of a bird’s wing, but it felt like an eternity. No matter how much his occasional weakness might had disappointed her, she hadn’t wanted for this to happen, not so soon. She straightened her back and turned around to face the large window pane out into the void.

The queen’s fingers sought her armlet and the alarm button hidden inside it. Clomping sound of heavy, booted feet approached. The door behind her slid open with a hiss. She heard the guards bursting in, taking defense formation.

“Something terrible has happened to the king,” she said, calmly clasping her hands behind her back, never taking her eyes away from the dark expanse in front of her. “Take him away.”

“My queen!”

“I’m uninjured. Leave me.”

There would be whispers. But there were always whispers. But they were her people. Her soldiers. They had bled for her and she had bled for them. Their ship was out alone in space. There were no other witnesses.

She would prevail.

And soon, soon she would have a new king to present them with.

 

***

 

“Is this him?” the hooded alien asked, its voice grating, like the sound of metal scratching against metal.

“Yes,” Rhea replied. She ran her hand along Mon-El's cheek. He looked so peaceful.

“He's been drugged. It is not helpful.”

“Do what you've been paid to do.” She looked into the alien's eyeless face. “If you damage him, you won't leave this ship alive.”

“I am the best, Queen of Daxam,” the alien snarled. It extended it's gray, spidery fingers to grab Mon-El's skull. It took all her self control not to chop off the shaper's hands.

“Look for the day of the calamity. The moment when he feel asleep in the Kryptonian pod. Everything after that, collect it, seal it.”

“A lot of time. It will cost extra.”

“Do it,” Rhea said between gritted teeth. She reached for her son's hand and clasped it close to her chest. _On Rao's light_ , she thought. _Keep him safe._ An orange glow started to emanate from the shaper's fingers and despite all the drugs in his system that kept him asleep, Mon-El started to scream.

**Author's Note:**

> This will have some darker material at it goes on, I will update the warning accordingly when it gets there. Let's just say amnesia and incest are in the cards. I figured somebody had to write a pyscho!Rhea fic eventually, so it might as well be me.
> 
> The usual warnings apply, I'm not a native speaker and I have no beta :(


End file.
